Alec Winchester
by southern cross
Summary: Crossover alert: Dark Angel/SPN/BtVS. Alec discovers he is so much more than what Manticore ever thought. Beyond Terminal City is a life and people who change everything. Alec/Max and Buffy/Dean.
1. Staccato Short

OK, so this series was something I put together about two years ago, it's a cross between Dark Angel, Supernatural and BuffytVS. One thing to note, in my head there was no bomb in the DA world that regressed the technology, just an unnecessary bit of their cannon I felt the urge to purge. Series is set post series finale on Buffy, post YED death on SPN pre Castiel, and post finale on DA. Confused much? I hope not I really do love the dynamics in this story so give it a shot. I own nothing and mean no harm. Please review!

* * *

"You do know that he can probably hear us?"

The walls of their shabby hotel room were paper thin. Even without the Transgenic hearing the occupant would have been able to clearly understand what had transpired.

"I know."

A pissed off Dean Winchester was volatile, loud and never a good thing. Buffy had learned early on that he would calm in time, in his own way. Ways that usually included alcohol. Or violence. Or some combination of both.

Sam, who should really have known better by now, did not seem ready to let it go.

"Calm down Dean."

Wincing Buffy met Willow's eyes and sent what she hoped was a reassuring look. Her friend was hovering nervously by the bathroom door; uncomfortable and unused to the strange Winchester family dynamic.

"Don't tell me to calm down Sam!"

Uh, oh; when his voice reached that decibel it was never, ever good. Time had come to stage an intervention.

"Willow, why don't you and Sam try to find us some dinner?"

Relieved to be given a task, one out of the room, Willow nearly flew from the room; dragging a reluctant Sam after her.

He meant well, Buffy knew that, but Sam was pushing when he should have been easing away.

Courtesy of the mentioned thin walls she heard the knock, muffled voices, and subsequent slamming of the door next door.

Good. Silently thanking Willow, she knew taking Alec with them was a good thing.

Every indication pointed towards anger. The pacing, the clenched jaw, but she knew him, saw what wasn't so very obvious; the pain. His eyes were not bright with anger; they were dark, guarded. His neck had angled slightly to the left, contemplating. Her boy was hurting.

Patiently, she had taken the art of patience to a new level since meeting Dean Winchester; she waited for him to break.

Silence, so not his thing, and eventually he would find the words, in his own sweet time. Until then she would sit, lean, against this dresser and wait.

"Un-fucking believable."

Well she certainly hadn't had to wait long. Biting her tongue, she knew he was just getting started.

"They fucking made him. They took, stole, from my Mother, people she trusted, violated her. Then they made him."

It was vile, so vile what had happened. Routine examinations on the pregnant wives of servicemen had yielded the first wave of Manticore's army.

"Bastards."

Dean's anger and disgust were wholly and completely justifiable. As a woman she shuddered at the thought of someone taking something so precious away from her.

"Goddamn clone."

Oh, but there it was. The biggest source of her worries; worried that he wouldn't work it out in time. Whatever Manticore had done and they had done so many horrible, horrible things; it wasn't Alec's fault.

In time Dean would know that, she had no doubt in her boy, but he had a vicious tongue when he was on the defensive, and lashing out now may ruin something that hadn't begun.

"Made a fucking brother out of me."

Her eyes widened. How could she have missed that? The odds were astronomical. Someone up there had a sick sense of humor and the insanity of it all was catching up with her. She felt it rising in her chest, felt her face reacting and she raised her hand to cover her mouth.

"What?"

Busted. Shit. The hazel eyes were razor sharp and turned towards her; stupid emotions, dragging up the humor at the worst possible time in the world.

"God. Dean. Its nothing."

Too late, he was already advancing on her.

"Is that a smile? You found something funny?"

The smile was slick; the voice charming; harmless and adorable, yeah, right. About as harmless as a rattler coiled to strike. She had to be very, very careful right now. Oh, but it was tricky. Standing so close, their legs nearly touching, she got that oh so familiar rush of hormones she got when he was close and looking at her just like that.

Focus, think, this was important. Honesty, yes, honesty was good. And no fear, she could never show that. No patronizing. She could do this. Throw it at him from left field and maybe she could salvage something.

"The odds Dean. Think of the odds."

Confused was good. Better than angry. She placed a careful hand on his arm, the worn leather as familiar to her touch as certain parts of her own skin.

"Siblings. Younger. Made from us."

Staccato short; he needed time to absorb. It was no bother, simply sitting there; watching the words sink in; the emotions play out over his face, in his eyes.

The connection broke, his eyes closed, shutting her out; tensing, her other hand coming up to rest on his other arm.

If he pulled away, she would pull him back.

"Ain't that a bitch?"

Relief, sweet, pure relief; every muscle in her body eased when his eyes opened and looked, really looked at her.

"We really were meant to be together huh?"

She smirked. A perfect replica of the one he sent her so very often.

"Told you so."

He rolled his eyes, but arms still came up to wrap around her. Snuggling into his chest, she smiled; she would never get tired of throwing that particular fact in his face.

Fate, destiny, love, she had known it, quicker than he had and she would never let him live it down.

"Another little brother. Sammy's gonna love that."

Laughing, arms slipping around his waist, she hugged him close, eyes looking up to meet his.

The line of tension had eased. The anger had dissipated. It was wrong; it was so fucking wrong, all of it. That hadn't changed but he was pulling through she saw it and was very proud of him; loved him all the more for it.

"That's just what the world needs. Another Winchester."

He smirked, thanking God for small favors, Buffy kissed his chin. He would be OK and she would be right here to make sure of it.


	2. No Brooding Tonight

This chapter was mad fun! I own nothing and mean no harm. Please review!

* * *

"Antsy?"

She wasn't sure why she had sought him out, but something seemed wrong about him outside all by himself.

"Yeah."

Buffy smiled, an honest answer was nice.

"Then let's walk."

Alec nodded. Dean's nod and fell into step next to her; Dean's stride.

Not staring was hard, it was so many kinds of strange walking down the battered sidewalk with Dean's younger replica. The hair was longer, the voice didn't have that hint of Kansas, but the movements, the damn smirk were the same.

Her life was so very strange.

"You know I have a younger sister."

Maybe he was expecting sympathy, more invasive questions, but she would leave the mothering to Sam and Willow.

For the next five blocks she told him about Dawn and how her family had expanded over night.

"Do you love her?"

Her eyebrows rose. Blunt and brash, she considered sniffing at the question and telling him to mind his manners; she knew she could pull it off. But then he had had quite the startling 72 hours.

"I died for her," so strange to see the wide-eyed look stretched over younger, smoother, skin, "Another story for another walk. We'd need a much longer sidewalk," his smile was just as devastating as she expected and it occurred to her that he had not mentioned a significant other. But it was time for her to answer not question.

"Dying is easy. It's the living that's hard; and when I finally knew that, finally understood the difference, than it was easy to love."

Food for thought; deep and meaningful she knew Giles would have been proud of her, but now Alec was brooding and it bothered her. Maybe it was a result of Angel and his perpetual broodiness but she had made it her personal mission, like Slaying wasn't enough, to eliminate brooding when she encountered it. When Dawn brooded they shopped, when Sam brooded she mentioned the current state of political affairs (after grabbing a recap from Giles) and when Dean brooded-, coughing loudly interrupted that particular train of thought.

Clearing her head she considered how things had been before she had finally convinced Dean that he was being stubborn and was obviously in love with her.

Getting him out of a funk had been fun, not as fun for her as now, but just as physical.

"Come on."

Tugging on his sleeve, more leather, God help the female population, she pulled him into the deserted garden that had appeared out of no where.

Gotta love urban decay; middle of the nastiest parts of town and you could always count on some do-gooder plopping down a garden or park of some sorts.

This neighborhood had no doubt fallen beyond the help of even the most ambitious yuppie as the garden had lost its benefactor some time ago.

Shedding her jacket she dropped it on a planter that hadn't held a plant in what looked like years, she rolled her neck; sizing him up. Catching on, his expression was as adorable as she imagined it would be.

"Are you serious?"

Circling to his right, she eyed him.

"Oh, yeah, Willow said the X5's were supposed to be the best."

Pride, arrogance, oh he wore it well; not nearly as casually as his big brother, but good enough.

"That is a fact."

Ah, that smirk was pure Winchester, she laughed.

"We'll see."

Ooh and there was the eyebrow. So the buttons to push were nearly identical, but that may have just been a guy thing.

Strength, speed, stamina, and training; brutal, inhumane, training had shaped X5-494. The blurring thing was a neat trick, could pose a problem, but she had a few tricks of her own.

As he shrugged out of his jacket, lightly bouncing on his feet, clearly anticipating the fight, she wondered if she would be fighting the X5 or Alec.

"There's still time to back down."

She smirked, that cocky little shit had no idea what he was in for.

She took the first swing, connected, and smiled; she was going to enjoy this.

* * *

"What's that?"

Dean frowned. Automatically his hand went for the gun at his back.

"Don't know but it sounds like something up our alley."

He didn't want to find out; he wanted to keep looking for Buffy, who had wandered off with Alec over an hour ago. But the sounds were becoming were more distinct with each step they took; a fight. With a sigh he withdrew his gun.

"Up there."

Sam pointed across the street. Nestled between two dilapidated brownstones was the entrance to a garden.

Crossing the street quickly, tense, anticipating all sorts of nasties that could be making such a raucous noise; his feet stopped short when he got his first glimpse of what was going on.

"What the hell?"

To his left Sam stood, gun lowering, clearly as surprised as he was.

"Looks like we found them."

In awe Dean stood there watching as his girlfriend and his newest, youngest brother beat the shit out of each other.

Were it not for the smiles and taunts Dean knew he would have been putting some bullets somewhere. DNA or not no one hit his girl that hard, he winced as a nasty right jab connected, and got away with it.

"Dude..."

Dean smiled; Sam cringed, when Buffy dealt a devastating kick to Alec's spine.

"He's a hell of a fighter."

As absurd as it was he found his admiration for the boy growing with every block and counter. Alec took a punch (Buffy's were brutal) like a man; kept a cool head (the dirty tricks were entirely Faith's influence).

"Think we should stop them?"

He shrugged, dropping onto a decaying bench, pleased it held his weight.

"Why? Looks like they are having fun."

His baby brother, who wasn't his baby brother anymore, damn, he kept forgetting, and where had he been going with this? That's right.

"Sit down Sammy. They're fine."

And they were. They all were. And they would stay that way. That is if the two combatants didn't kill each other first.

"You asshole!"

Buffy was rubbing her scalp where Alec had yanked, hard, on her ponytail.

"You bitch!"

Alec groaned as he cupped his balls where Buffy had kneed him.

"I think that's our cue."

Slapping Sam, hard, on the leg, he rose, his laughter, courtesy of Sam's "ow" announcing their presence to the halted fighters.

Buffy smiled, her lip bleeding, but her eyes were bright, excited. Oh, boy was he going to have him some fun when he got her alone.

Lips curving into a wicked grin, he smacked a startled Alec on the back.

"Got your ass handed to you huh?"

Alec glared, but he laughed again. Sam was helping Buffy into her jacket and Dean was quick to notice her favoring her left side.

"So maybe you did get in a few knocks of your own."

Were they bonding? Fuck, he felt like a girl, or Sam, but he didn't fight the urge to ruffle Alec's hair.

"Pretty slick moves you got there. They'll come in handy in a pinch. You never know what you'll stumble across during a hunt."

Leaving Alec with his mouth hanging open he winked at Sam who was openly staring at them.

"What?"

Sam rolled his eyes as they crossed paths. Switching partners, he looked over at Buffy and smiled.

"Hey beautiful."

All of his attention on the tiny woman in his arms, he pressed a soft kiss to her bruising cheek.

"Hey handsome."

Over her head, he watched his brother, brothers; argue as Sam was insisting on checking Alec's rapidly swelling eye.

"Everything good?"

He didn't miss the concern, her concern, hesitating, but there. Yesterday she wouldn't have asked and he loved that she knew that; loved that she asked today.

"Perfect."

The beaming smile she gave him warmed him. Her arms slipped around his neck and he pulled her close.

"Good."

Never passing up a moment to rile his Slayer, he smacked her ass, quickly kissing away the gasp.

Unforgiving, he got an icy glare and a rising eyebrow when she pulled away from the kiss.

"For that you get to carry me."

Smacking of the Slayer's ass was a serious breach of acceptable PDA.

With a sigh he accepted his impending punishment.

"Ooof!"

He grinned when she tugged on his ear; his, beautiful, predictable Slayer. Carrying her piggy back style over to the still arguing Sam and Alec he kicked a rock at Sam who glared at him.

"If you two are done playing doctor..."

Buffy laughed and he found it strange to see his scowl looking back at him.

Ah, but these were the best ways to spend an evening. He had his girl; he had his family, so yeah it was turning out to be a damn fine evening.


	3. Another Raggedy Hotel Room

Oh how I love the angst inherent in Alec and Max. I own nothing and mean no harm. Please review.

* * *

Another raggedy motel room, not unlike every other one he had stayed in over the past month.

Only this one was full of Max; her scent, her presence, and it overwhelmed him. Wishing he could open a window, they never have working windows in the motel rooms they stayed in, he debated whether moving at all was wise. Even if it was to crack the door open.

Max was pacing the short length of his room gnawing on her thumb nail, long black hair swaying with each turn. God, he had missed her.

Traveling with his newly acquired family had been the best time of his life. Fun and exciting, he finally had people who cared, who didn't judge, people like Joshua. And yet, for all her bitchy ways, he had missed his Max.

If she said no, decided not to participate, well he would live. He was a Winchester now and he would be OK. But this plan was a good plan. One that would benefit everybody and he knew that Max was the key to making it happen.

Several times she had stopped, turned, and looked at him, stared at him as though she had never seen him before and had made like she wanted to say, ask, something, but she closed her mouth and resumed her pacing.

A month and a day ago he would have been pestering her, pushing her for a choice, his choice, but hours squirreled away in the Impala with three very direct, very distinct personalities had dampened some of his impatience.

Her feet had stopped again and she had started to stare and there was the mouth opening and he could almost see the words ready to spill out.

"You didn't call."

Blinking, wholly unprepared for the actual words, it took a full five seconds for her words to register.

They had fought that night, he had screwed up or not, he didn't know, but she had yelled and he had yelled and they had parted ways in anger. Only this time, unlike all the other times a conversation between them ended in near blows, his phone had begun to ring on his way out to somewhere, anywhere, to find a bottle of alcohol or preferably a fight.

Regardless of his less than pleasant hello Willow's excited voice had intruded on his anger and less than an hour later his whole life had upended itself. By accident he had left without saying goodbye.

Dean had been itching to get out of the city and in his shock he had let his big brother's anger drag him out of Seattle.

With nothing but the clothes on his back he had set out. Two days had passed before he had though to call Joshua. Leaving what he hoped was a reassuring message. 'He was fine. He'd be back soon. Don't worry.'

If he had considered for one second that Max might have missed him or worried about him, he frowned, what, would he have stayed? No, but he might have called her.

"I called Josh. Checked in when I could."

A half-truth; he had called when he had been fairly certain no one would be there leaving brief messages on the machine. He hadn't wanted to hear the Big Fellas concern; he hadn't wanted the guilt.

"You didn't call me."

Good Goddamn. Dean's voice, his voice, shouted expletives behind a clenched jaw. How dare she? How dare she stand there, right there, looking like she was going to cry or scream and just what the fuck was going on with her? Where the hell did she get off laying a guilt trip on him?

"Why would I?"

She paled. Dangerously so, but he wasn't backing down this time; in for a penny, in for a pound.

"Your back was better off without me behind it, remember?"

So he had known exactly what they had fought about that last time. He had been late to a meet and of course she hadn't wanted to hear about how his bike had stalled out and he had had to do a quick patch up job.

Oh, no. It was just one more was he was a screw up.

Bitch.

Now he remembered why it had been so easy to walk away from her.

"Alec."

So he had gotten a little carried away in his temper, was now pacing himself, glaring, fists balled up, the whole ten yards. But her whisper, God when had Max ever whispered at him like that?

"I am so sorry."

He blinked. Took a step back and scanned the room. Max apologizing, to anyone was a feat, Max apologizing to him was absolutely unheard of. Vaguely he wondered if she were something else. Something that looked and smelled like Max, but wasn't.

She sat down on the bed a half second before he moved to get his brothers and patted the space next to her.

"I've pretty much always been a bitch to you haven't I?"

Maybe this was Max (which he knew deep down it was) and maybe it wasn't (which was highly unlikely considering all the precautions strewn across each threshold of the room) either way he knew he wasn't leaving, he wasn't getting help, so he sat.

"I've pretty much usually deserved it."

That was the truth. Most of the time he jerked her chain, enjoying their fights, he knew now it was an inherited trait, seeing as Dean and Buffy were at each others throats more often than not.

But it was the moments of sincerity, the times when he had busted his ass and the world had decided to kick him in the balls, and she had still not cut him any slack. Never a 'nice try' or 'it'll be OK' and no amount of training could keep the pain in his chest away.

"You didn't always deserve it. You don't always deserve it."

Thanks be that he was sitting, for he was sure his legs would have given out just then. Oh, but then her hand was on his arm and he was looking, seeing the sincerity.

A familiar expression aimed at others, so unfamiliar aimed in his direction.

"And I'll try to remember that in the future."

The future, a future with Max in it, a nicer, well more understanding Max, he couldn't even imagine it.

"The future?"

Two words, a single question, they could mean so much, so little. A smile, a real true Max smile for him and he suddenly didn't care if the future ended in the next moment.

He had that smile. How much better could it get?

"I think your plan might be the most insane thing I have ever heard of," right; that future.

"But you always had my back, even when you didn't have to. You looked out for all of us, God I trusted you Alec and I didn't even realize it until I turned around and you weren't there anymore."

Dean would have laughed outright, Buffy would have smiled, maybe teared up, and Sam would have snickered, but none of that stopped his head from turning. Wide-eyed, jaw hanging open, he had probably never looked so unorganized, but he couldn't help it and hey, Max wasn't laughing at him.

"So the plan is crazy, the people involved are strangers to me."

Put that way he wondered if even he would have gone for it, but he was having trouble keeping up with her continuous changes in topic.

"But you think it'll work and you can vouch for the Council, so what ever help you need from me you have."

Max had the power to simply ruin him; always had. Swallowing back an unexpected wave of nausea he stared down at his hands; absolutely devastated.

Putting everything in order was paramount. Max was sorry. Max realized how she had hurt him. Max wanted a part in his future. Max trusted him enough to alter the entire course of TC's future.

Holy fucking shit.

There had been a plan in a plan. Tell Max, get her to Scotland, meet and greets, meetings, layouts, outlines. A whole thing was going to be laid out.

But she had decided; _decided_. Just. Like. That.

Based on what? His word? His recommendation?

Swallowing, he flicked his gaze over to her. There was a slight frown on her face, some concern in her profile, but she wouldn't look at him. No, she was ever so interested; it seemed, in her hands.

Words were needed, something to break the incredulous silence he had started.

His mouth opened, and then closed. What does one say when everything was upside-down?

Really, after Dean and Sam had plowed into his life he should have been better prepared.

He didn't want to doubt her, you know, give her a chance to take back her words. He didn't want to ask about what everyone (Logan) would think about her choice.

Fuck it.

"Thank you Max."

Looked like he could pull off the whispered thing just as well as she could; and look her wide-eyed, gaping face was as overwhelming as he supposed his was.

Smiling, he took her hand, entwining their fingers.

Signs, omens, they had taken on new meaning since he had become a hunter and he took it as a good omen, a good sign of things to come when the fingers around his own tightened to hold, not hurt.

"I'm glad you are back Alec."

He could really get used to hearing his name like that, but it gave a guy thoughts. There would have to be another conversation soon, but not now. Not today.

Squeezing her hand, he nudged her shoulder and unprepared, she rocked away, catching herself with a laugh.

Wow.

A smile, a laugh, a whisper; a day of days and a future to look forward too.


	4. A Strange Life

Some Sam and Willow fun at Mole's expense. I am totally convinced that Sam and Willow would be the best of friends and that was all that was intended in their interaction. I own nothing and would love some reviews.

* * *

"Hey guys."

As one Willow and the guy called Mole turned towards him.

"Sam!"

Arms suddenly full of the red-headed woman, Sam smiled and hugged her back. When they pulled apart Willow began a hurried and rather convoluted introduction.

"Names Mole."

"Sam Winchester."

They shook hands. He knew he was being appraised, raised his head a little higher, but he didn't let it bother him. It was what it was.

"So you're pretty boy's big brother?"

'Pretty boy' Huh; wouldn't Dean love that.

"One of them that's right."

"Mole was getting ready to give me a tour. You should come."

Mole looked as prepared for a tour as he was for the ballet, but neither contradicted her. There was something endearing about Buffy's Wiccan friend.

"Well let's get on with it then."

His eyebrows rose, as much from surprise at the command, as from the skill it must have taken to bark it with teeth clenched around the stub of a cigar.

"Let's."

What an odd sight they must make. A tiny red-head flanked by a lizard man and a tall-ass white boy.

How wonderfully strange was his life?

"Ooh what's that?"

The tour and he used the term very loosely was nothing much more than Willow pointing and asking and Mole grunting out an answer.

Wisely he kept what thoughts and questions he had to himself, not that Willow missed much, but he doubted Mole would be as welcoming to his inquiries.

Having wound their way toward what was the central area for living quarters, he was surprised at the amount of activity in and out of the various apartments.

Curiosity got the better of him, and he risked a question.

"So how many have accepted the offer?"

This morning all of TC had gathered as Max and Buffy, with Alec and Dean at their sides, had laid out the plan.

The Watcher's Council, Buffy, had extended their, her, protection. Any Transgenic or Transhuman who wished to would be given shelter, a home, at their head quarters in Scotland.

He had been there once and what he had seen had been most impressive; places to live, to train, to research, and to have fun. Despite the nature of their work, the Slayers had made it a home, and regardless of the fact that it was single most guarded location on Earth, it had been warm and welcoming.

How many of those living in TC had ever had a warm and welcoming anything?

Lost as he was in his thoughts, he almost missed the words.

"All of them."

Willow beamed up at him. Obviously she had been privy to the news, but then she had hardly left the Command Center all day. He had stuck close to Alec who had woven in and out of groups, answering questions and reassuring doubts.

Now, thought, now, he was stunned. All of them were going? Alec had hoped for half, Max had thought it would be higher, but all? That was great news.

"Most of us are just itching for a fight and since we can't get out hands on White and his cronies, we'll just have to settle for your lots enemies."

The smile was unsettling, true, but he understood what Mole was trying to say.

Right or wrong, Manticore had made soldiers out of them and idly sitting by was not in their nature.

Buffy's offer had been twofold. Those who wanted to fight could; those who didn't want to could still come and volunteer in some non-combative post or not.

She had been real clear that all were welcome, no matter what they chose to do once there.

But still.

"Wow."

"Wow is right."

Willow echoed up to him.

"If the Slayer can deliver on half of what she promised it'll be a hundred times better than what we got strung together here."

On his arm Willow bristled, he smiled at the glare she sent to Mole.

"Oh she'll deliver. Buffy's not big on the whole letting down and disappointing thing."

Unconvinced Mole shrugged.

"I dunno. We're a wanted group. The X5's alone are worth a fortune. The kind of arsenal gunning for us is pretty impressive."

Oh, boy. He knew that look. Willow had shrugged free of their arms and stepped away. Automatically his feet stopped, as did Mole's.

She had turned to face them and he swallowed involuntarily, eyeballing the shotgun on Mole's shoulder and the too calm look in Willow's eye.

"Our arsenal is more than capable of withstanding anything your pursuers could throw at us."

A genuine old-fashioned showdown ensued. Stepping back, his strange life was getting stranger and possibly more dangerous by the second.

"Is that a fact?"

Willow smirked. Well that was unexpected, he wasn't sure he had ever seen her look quite so pleased to be in the middle of an argument.

Confrontations seemed, up to this point, to unnerve her. But there was something bigger going on here. She had a point to prove and she seemed set on making it in the middle of the street.

"It is."

He braced himself. Too bad for him that Mole hadn't.

With a flick of her wrist Willow had raised the stunned DAC ten feet in the air; the shotgun dropping harmlessly to the ground as he rose.

Cautiously he eyed the small crowd that had gathered. Willow was walking a fine line.

"Well for fuck's sake."

Mole swung his arms and legs to no avail, the sight drew a few snickers from the expanding crowd.

"You've made your point. Now get me down."

As swiftly as he had risen, he descended; the amount of control Willow exhibited floored him.

She had been a huge help in honing his own fledgling skills, and he had gotten pretty good, but she was just in a different league.

All too aware of their audience he would be ever so grateful if the next few moments proceeded without incident.

Gun retrieved, and cigar re-lit, Mole turned toward Willow.

"Nice trick."

The whole group held their breath.

"Think you could manage that, but with White and a cliff and a not so nice landing?"

As one breaths being held were released. Humor was good, great, and the crowd began to disperse. Willow laughed so did he, and he offered his arm once again to his friend at the same moment Mole did.

They shared a look and he wasn't sure, but he would have sworn he saw a twinkle in his eye. Bravo, Willow.

"I'll work on that."

Quite suddenly Mole became a chatter box; full of information and anecdotes. Strong arm tactics had done wonders to improve his mood.

Laughing at a particularly funny story, he felt only the slightest guilt at the unfavorable light cast on Logan.

Poor guy, no one in TC seemed to fond of 'Eyes Only' his biggest supporter having been preoccupied by none other than his little brother.

'Little brother;' he wasn't used to it yet, but he liked it.

Huh, and now that they were all heading overseas he would have plenty of time to get used to it.

And that made all the strange so very worth it.


End file.
